By A candle
a language of light and of fire
(a sign that marked our birth)
stamping our life
with the cold of weird loneliness.
This weird feeling makes no sense for people of the signs of fire, though it might be the essence of the fire consuming everything till, dry and grey, the ashes lightly fly away through the divine sounds of the choir, the symphony of our souls that rejoice into one voice: the voice of love.
(I let this candle speak to you about the loving fire.)
August, 02, 2017
Worlds of Words 